


Backseat Serenade

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: I don't like to call it smut but it's smut, Luke only wants to help, M/M, Sad Michael, Uni AUs are my fav
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke finds Michael crying in his car and wants to help him feel better.</p>
<p>One-shot based on ATL's song</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backseat Serenade

 

Luke ended up leaving the classroom thirty minutes late. He’d given up the idea of making dinner when he got home—these night graduate courses were ridiculously late, and he often stayed after to work in the room anyway because it was essentially silent compared to his city apartment. He didn’t know why he didn’t just live in grad housing on the campus. Princeton was a beautiful school. Maybe he’d move soon. Maybe he’d just get take-out on the way home.

            He folded up his laptop and put it in his backpack, slung it over his shoulder. He hit the lights on the way out. Come to think of it, he was almost always the last one to leave; the professor had told him to get the lights a few weeks back when he’d started staying after, and it had just stuck. Maybe he’d get the key to the room soon, too. He went outside, letting the door swing quietly closed behind him.

            It was dark—darker than it should have been, despite the time. There should have been a sliver of moonlight at least. He looked up—no moon, no stars. Clouds. Cool. He started out across campus toward the commuter lot.

            He saw the names on the bricks of the memorial walk as he passed by. People who had given to the university, people who had graduated and stayed, passing on their knowledge, until they died. Smart, successful people. Lately, Luke had started to worry that he might not end up being the kind of person who got their name on a brick to be stepped on by Princeton population. Or any, for that matter. Luke wanted to do well—he was good at physics and he really liked it, but the work was getting really difficult. He’d gotten his Bachelor’s—thank God—but now his Master’s work was slipping. He knew some of the other kids were doing way better than he was. Some had already submitted their theses. He’d barely even cracked into his. Sometimes he felt like a total loser—like he just couldn’t do anything right, despite his above average grades and his late-night work sessions. He felt inadequate. He supposed, though, that there were worse ways to feel, worse positions to be in than not-top-of-the-class at Princeton University. Whatever. He’d have to just get past it. Try to remind himself every day that someone else had it worse.

            He made it to the parking lot in the dark. Well, dark except for one spot of light the next row down, in a four-door black Lexus. Luke pitied the Lexus’s battery, and pulled out his keys from his pocket. But then he noticed movement. Someone was in the Lexus. Someone with a familiar shock of platinum white hair. Someone wiping his eyes.

            Michael was in Luke’s class. He always left right when it ended. At first, Luke had taken him for one of those kids whose parents got them in with money and who didn’t really care at all. But then their professor had had the students peer review each other’s work one day, and Luke had been in a group with Michael. He’d learned that Michael was actually incredibly smart—too brilliant for his own good—and that he left early every day to get straight to work in the library. At the time, he’d said he had almost finished his thesis. They hadn’t really spoken since, but Michael was one of the people who made Luke insecure about himself. Who made Luke wish he could be like him. Luke bet he’d finished that thesis weeks ago.

            But why was he crying?

            Luke thought for a moment that maybe he should just let him be. Michael was quiet, Michael was a bit of a loner. Michael probably didn’t want to talk to anyone. But…Luke couldn’t just leave him there. Something tugged at him, and drew him to the Lexus.

            He noticed as he got closer that Michael was sitting in the backseat. Strange, but who was he to judge. He leaned over and knocked quietly on the window.

            Michael jumped and looked over at him with red eyes. He frowned. It was muffled when he said, “Go away.”

            “Are you okay?”

            “Go away, Luke.”

            Luke was surprised Michael had remembered his name. But then, he had remembered Michael’s. “Can I do anything to help? Need to talk?”

            Michael rolled his eyes, looked forward, lowered his head. “Leave.”

            “Don’t be embarrassed. I just want to help.” Luke knew he was being pushy. He didn’t like seeing people cry. He wanted to tell Michael that he understood, whatever the problem was.

            “ _Luke._ I swear _._ Just go.”

            “Michael.”

            Michael looked at him again. Luke could see the pain on his face. And he could feel the rain starting to fall on his shoulders. He pointed up, keeping his eyes locked with Michael’s. “It’s raining. You better let me in.”

            Michael leaned forward and looked up out the window, and Luke noticed how big his eyes were. Michael’s face flattened as he looked back at Luke. “Get in your own car, then.”

            “It’s too far away.”

            “Literally it’s only—”

            “I’m melting, Michael.”

            Michael groaned and rolled his eyes and as he leaned forward to hit the unlock switch on the front door, Luke went around to the other side of the car. He opened the back door and sat down next to Michael, putting his backpack on the floor, brushing his hair up. He shut the rain out and it was quiet. “Thank you.”

            Michael threw him a look, then turned back and wiped his eyes again, composing himself.

            Luke sighed. “Michael, why are you in the backseat?”

            Michael laughed humorlessly. “I thought maybe it would be less noticeable.”

            “Why didn’t you go home?”

            Michael squinted at him. “Because it just happened, okay? I couldn’t keep it back any longer.”

            Luke stared at his pale face. Any longer? What did that mean? “Why were you crying?”

            Michael sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I failed a test yesterday. In another class.”

            “Bad?”

            “I got a C.”

            Luke made a face at him. “Come on. That’s not so bad. I’ve gotten Cs. That’s no big deal.”

            “My grandfather died. Two weeks ago.”

            Luke felt himself sink into the seat a little more. “Oh.” What was he supposed to say? He realized he didn’t really know anything about Michael at all. He did remember seeing Michael miss two classes in a row two weeks ago. And now, Michael looked sad, yes, but mostly he just looked exhausted. He looked like he needed that cry. “I’m sorry.”

            “And today, my thesis got rejected.”

            Luke sighed and put his hands in his lap. “God. Michael…I didn’t know. What…why didn’t they want it?”

            Michael laughed again. It made Luke feel queasy. “They said my understanding of space-time travel and time dilation was warped. Isn’t that funny? My whole fucking paper is about warps in the fabric, folds in the continuum.”

            “That’s…a really good topic. And in class—I swear you’re the smartest person there. Whenever you answer or ask a question I feel like I’ve never even been to school before, my brain is so empty compared to yours.”

            Michael shook his head. “I’ve been doing research for nearly two years. Observatories on remote mountains and reading Einstein until two in the morning and gravitational experiments and math equations and documentaries. You know how many pieces of paper I’ve used and thrown away trying to get my information, my equations, my theories, correct? I thought I’d done it.”

            “I’m sorry,” Luke said again. “That’s bullshit. They should have taken it. There’s no way you got it wrong. You—”

            “I know, all right? I know. Saying that won’t help.”

            Luke bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”

            “Me too.”

            “If it makes any difference, I’ve only got like ten pages of mine done.”

            Michael only looked at him.

            Luke tapped his fingers on his legs. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

            “Not really. Unless you want to tell me how I was wrong so I can fix it.”

            Luke shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you left from right if you put the proof in front of me that it was the other way around.”

            Michael sort of smiled. “Stop.”

            “I’m serious. I’m jealous of you, Michael. You make me feel…inadequate. And I’ve only spoken to you once. Well, now more, but you know what I mean. I met you and suddenly I wasn’t smart anymore.”

            “You’re in Princeton.”

            Luke tilted his head side to side. “I know. But you’re _worthy_ of Princeton. I don’t know about me. I’m barely pulling Bs.”

            “It’s graduate school.”

            “You have a four-point-oh, right?”

            Michael didn’t answer.

            “Yeah. You’re smarter than me. And that’s awesome. I’m just jealous. Teach me your ways.”

            Michael did smile, small. “Well, it’s basically all I do. I bet you have friends. I bet you go out sometimes and have drinks and have a stunning girlfriend and—”

            Luke snorted laughter.

            “What?” Michael asked.

            “No girlfriend here.”

            “No?”

            “I swing the other way.”

            Michael’s eyes might have changed a bit. Luke noticed it, and understood what it meant. He was really just glad Michael’s mind was off the bad stuff. “Oh,” Michael said. “Boyfriend, then.”

            Luke shook his head.

            Michael swallowed. “Well, still. You have free time.”

            Luke shrugged. “I’ll never be as smart as you, even if I stopped going out to dinner and grabbing a beer with a friend or whatever it is. You win.”

            Michael’s mouth curled down at the corners. “Believe me, I don’t win.”

            Luke looked at his hands. He cleared his throat. “Listen…I’m sorry about all the shit. Fuck the C, resubmit the paper and blow their minds, and remember that everybody dies.”

            Michael raised an eyebrow.

            Luke put a hand up, mouth agape. “Okay…wait. That’s not…wow. I’m an ass. That sounded terrible. I’m so sorry.”

            Michael smiled sideways. “It’s all right. We weren’t very close. I missed school to go to the funeral in Sydney. It really dragged.”

            Luke couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Hey, um…let me know if you ever need anything, okay? Talk to me anytime. And I’d be happy to help with that paper except that all I’d do is fuck it up. Although, apparently faulty information is what they’re looking for if they think what you gave them is wrong.”

            Michael smiled and shook his head. “All right.”

            “And you should come with me for a drink some time.” His brow furrowed. “Did that sound like I just asked you out?” Maybe he did.

            Michael looked forward again, but Luke saw that he was trying to hold back a smile. “Go on, Luke. It’s late.”

            “Okay.” He wanted to hug Michael. He wasn’t sure if that would be okay. He—

            “Luke?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Just…thanks for not going away.”

            Luke looked into his eyes while Michael looked away. He really did want to hug Michael. All of a sudden, he wanted more than to hug Michael. He liked that he made Michael feel okay. Maybe…

            Luke began to crawl forward into the front seat.

            “Hey. Your ass is in my face,” Michael said.

            Luke laughed. “Sorry.”

            “What are you doing?”

            Luke pulled his legs forward and settled into the driver’s seat, glad to see the keys were in the ignition. “Where do you live?”

            “You’re not driving me anywhere.”

            “Why not? Where do you live?”

            “Because this is my car and yours is over there and I barely know you.”

            Luke turned around and looked at him. “Are you feeling better?”

            Michael paused. He looked away. “A little. I…thanks for talking to me.”

            Luke nodded. He faced forward again and turned the engine on. “I bet I can make you feel even better than a little.”

            He met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They were wide and bright greyish-green and surprised and no longer teary in the slightest. Luke gave him a little smile.

            Michael said, very softly, “Graduate housing, east Twelfth Street.”

            Luke put the car in reverse, backed out, and went to where Michael had said.

 

Michael had climbed into the passenger seat while Luke was driving the near-empty campus. He pointed out the window. “There. White one.”

            Luke pulled up to a little white house, plain and very grad-student-looking. He shut the car off. “I’m surprised you didn’t change your mind.”

            Michael looked out the window. “I did. Three times.”

            Luke handed Michael his keys. “Final verdict?”

            “Take your shoes off just inside the door,” Michael said, and he stepped out of the car.

            Luke grinned and followed, running through the rain.

            Their shoes were off, and Michael was locking the door behind them. Luke immediately took Michael by the hips and threw him up against the wall. He came close and put his face in Michael’s neck, nipping and kissing and sucking gently. He pushed his hips against Michael’s and Michael let out a soft sound, tilting his head up. Luke snaked a hand between them and palmed Michael through his jeans, feeling Michael’s hips push forward into his touch. Luke kissed up to Michael’s jaw and then over to his mouth. Michael pushed him away.

            “Stop.”

            Luke stood there two feet away, staring at him. “What…I thought…”

            “I do. But…not my mouth, okay? We’re not…that’s too…” He sighed. “I don’t want it to seem like that if it’s not like that. But this isn’t some drunk fuck. This needs to be a deliberate thing. Not necessarily calculated but…I don’t want this to go by in some flash of—” he waved his hands around, “—whatever. Okay? This isn’t that. If you mean this, then…don’t just get off by using me.”

            Luke nodded seriously. “Of course. I understand. I do want to kiss you, but I understand.”

            Michael went red. “Don’t, all right?”

            “I won’t. I’ll respect that.” He stepped back toward Michael and held his hips again. “Everywhere else is fair game?”

            Michael sighed shakily. “I suppose.”

            Luke kissed his jaw a few times. “Good. Then we’ll need a bed. Which way?”

            Michael looked into his eyes and said, “Follow me.”

            He led them to the bedroom, and he started to pull his clothes off. He got his pants undone when Luke said, “Can I?”

            Michael paused. “I…you want to?”

            “Deliberately. Yes.”

            “Okay.”

            “Can you get up on the bed?”

            Michael blinked at him. “Sure.” He climbed up; laid back when Luke told him to do that too.

            Luke climbed up and knelt over him. He started to pull Michael’s pants and underwear off as he asked, “Who’s topping?”

            Michael flushed again. “Jesus.”

            “He’s unavailable.”

            “Luke.”

            “I’m just being deliberate.”

            “Are you making fun of me?”

            Luke dropped Michael’s pants to the floor and looked into his face. “No. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to do anything wrong.”

            Michael sighed. “It’s sex, Luke. It’s not complicated.”

            Luke smiled and rolled his eyes. “Now who’s being snarky?”

            “You,” Michael said.

            “I beg to—”

            “You’re topping.”

            Luke raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Okay.” He reached down and pulled off Michael’s shirt. He looked at Michael’s naked body. “You have nice skin.”

            Michael made a face. “Thanks.”

            “You do.”

            “Stop being awkward.”

            “I’m not!”

            “Stop saying random things.”

            “They’re not random. They’re the truth. Deliberate truth.”

            “I swear to God.”

            Luke giggled. “Sorry.” He took his own clothes off. “I just like the word you used. You’re right, this isn’t just a—”

            “You’re supposed to be helping me forget.”

            Michael stared seriously up at him. Luke’s lips were parted slightly and he was just kneeling over Michael’s legs and he didn’t know what to say. _I’m sorry_ was the first thing that came to mind, but he’d already said that about thirty times tonight. He decided on a whispered, “Okay.”

            He leaned down and started to kiss Michael’s body. He kissed along Michael’s collarbones and down his chest, leaving light pecks on his ribs and his nipples and his solar plexus. He held onto Michael’s body as he made his way down to Michael’s belly button and back up to his neck.

            “Luke.”

            “Mm?” He looked up from Michael’s skin.

            Michael reached sideways and pulled open the drawer in his table. Luke reached over and got a condom—he actually had to open the box because it was untouched—and the bottle of lube. He was silent as he put the condom on and slicked himself. He paused for a moment, then got a little more lube and put it on his fingers. He put the bottle back and shoved the drawer closed with the back of his hand.

            “Michael, I—”

            “Can we not talk?”

            Luke nodded. He leaned forward, planted his left hand in the sheets next to Michael's body, and brought his fingers between Michael’s legs. Michael looked at him and nodded, and Luke slipped his first finger in. Michael drew in a slow breath; Luke watched his chest move with it. Luke pushed and pulled a few times before he added a second. Michael made a little noise in the back of his throat—barely audible—and Luke slowed down a little bit. Obviously Michael wasn’t used to this. Luke was surprised, and maybe even a little flattered, that Michael wanted him to top. Luke moved his fingers slower, and when Michael looked more comfortable he scissored them outward. Michael shifted his hips, but he didn’t look in pain.

            “Another,” Michael said.

            Luke was going to ask if he was sure but he wasn’t supposed to talk. So he carefully slipped his ring finger in with the others, and Michael’s back arched a little. Luke hoped he wasn’t hurting Michael, but he was pretty sure Michael would say something if he was—Michael was that kind of person. So he pushed and pulled all the way until Michael said, “Okay, Luke.”

            Luke nodded. He wiped his hand on the sheets and he positioned between Michael’s thighs. He held himself up on his elbows and he pushed slowly in. Michael hummed; Luke liked it. He pulled back and thrust again, and Michael’s hands finally touched Luke’s body. They slid up his back and onto his shoulders and stayed there, holding on. Luke kept pushing, gentle and deep, and at one point Michael jolted underneath him.

            “You all right?”

            “ _Luke_.”

            The way Michael breathed his name and the way Michael’s arms tightened around him sent static throughout Luke’s body. He hummed into Michael’s neck and kissed him warmly, wishing he could taste his tongue.

            All at once, Michael rolled them over. Luke let his legs stick out and he looked up into Michael’s face, wide-eyed. Michael was on his knees, flushed, and his hair hung down around his head as he stared softly into Luke’s eyes. And then he started to move himself, pushing backward onto Luke. Luke tilted his chin up and moaned, gripping Michael’s waist in his hands. He bent his knees up and planted his feet on the bed, and he pushed his hips up opposite to Michael’s rocking.

            “ _Oh_. Michael. You…oh God.”

            “Shhh.”

            Luke groaned, wishing he could say something. Anything. But moaning wasn’t talking, so he did that instead. He gripped Michael’s skin and moved his hips and Michael pushed himself back onto him. Michael made a whine once, and Luke opened his eyes to find Michael’s face contorted above him. And while he was still looking, Luke wrapped his hand around Michael and drew it up and down a few times, and Michael spilled onto his stomach and rocked back a little harder. Luke pushed up his hips, hoping to give Michael whatever he could, and Michael released a few short moans. Then Michael was sighing, breathing heavily, and looking into Luke’s eyes again. Michael said, inaudible: “Come.”

            Luke tugged Michael’s body down and turned them back over. He rolled his hips gently, feeling Michael’s come dripping down his chest, and he moaned again, long and low, when he came inside the condom. He put a wet kiss on Michael’s cheek and pushed out his final few thrusts. He stopped, pulled out, took off the condom, threw it away, and lay next to Michael on his back.

            “Michael.”

            “The bathroom is just down the hall.”

            Luke sat up and looked down into Michael’s face. Was this it? He didn’t want this to be it. “Michael. Do you…want me to go?”

            “The bathroom, Luke.”

            Luke sighed and got up. He went slowly to the bathroom and cleaned off. He came back to the bedroom, and without asking or waiting for Michael to say goodbye he flopped back down next to him, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs at the ankles. He looked sideways at Michael. Michael’s brow was furrowed and he looked…not mad, but like he was thinking deeply. Luke wasn’t sure what to say, again. He waited at least a minute for Michael to say something, but he didn’t. So he said, “I’m sorry for saying sorry so much today.”

            “Illogical,” Michael replied.

            “I know. I’m…” he smiled, “sorry.”

            Michael glanced sideways at him. “Have you heard the argument about self-driving cars?”

            Luke blinked at him. “No.”

            “Your car is driving you along, and you’re about to go under a tunnel. But right as you’re approaching, a child stumbles and falls into the middle of the road. The car is designed not to kill humans. Does the car continue along, running the child over and saving your life, or does it swerve and crash against the tunnel wall, saving the child’s life but killing you?”

            Luke was silent. He wasn’t sure why Michael was saying this. Maybe Michael was making a metaphor. He didn’t understand it, and he didn’t know why Michael troubled himself with it. Michael really was too brilliant for his own good.

            “It’s interesting,” Michael said.

            Luke said, “You know…don’t take offense to this, but when I first saw you in class, I thought you were one of those kids with the rich parents, you know? That’s how easy you made everything look—like you weren’t even trying.”

            Michael half smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “No. It’s not me who doesn’t care.”

            Luke tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

            A line appeared between Michael’s eyebrows. He didn’t answer.

            “Michael?”

            “I’m thinking.”

            “About what?”

            “If I should tell you about myself or not.”

            Luke faced him. “Why wouldn’t you?”

            “Because I don’t know if _you_ care.”

            “That’s what you meant? I do.”

            “No, that’s not…” He sighed. He shook his head. “Can I trust you?”

            Luke didn’t hesitate. “You can.”

            Michael frowned. “I don’t believe you, but okay.”

            Luke turned fully on his side and propped up on his elbow, resting his chin in his hand, listening intently, already knowing he’d never tell a single soul whatever it was he was about to hear.

            Michael licked his lips. “I meant that it’s my parents that don’t care. As if they would ever pay for me to go here… No. I’m on scholarship. And I work early mornings.”

            “What do you do?”

            Michael looked sideways at him. “I code.”

            “Like…computer stuff?”

            Michael nodded.

            “What do you make?”

            Michael’s lips twitched. “Children’s educational software. I…this is going to sound really lame.”

            “I think it’s great. Tell me.”

            Michael sighed. “There’s a program we’re working on—teach kids astronomy. Basic level stuff. Anyway…I code the night sky. I map the constellations and…yeah.”

            Luke shook his head in disbelief. “What the fuck.”

            Michael frowned, looked away again. “What?”

            “That’s fucking amazing.”

            Michael tilted his head back to the side to meet Luke’s eyes again. “Sure.”

            “I’m serious. I can’t do anything like that. And that’s just your thing you do for a little extra money, _on top_ of school? I mean…wow, Michael. You can do everything— _too_ well. Physics, theory, tech, sex. Anything.”

            Michael blushed a little and shifted. “You’re the only one who knows what I do. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

            “I won’t. But you should.”

            “Mm.”

            “Tell me about your parents.”

            Michael sighed again and stared up at the ceiling. “Not exactly much to tell. They don’t give two shits about me. About who I am or what I do. They don’t—”

            Michael’s face twisted and it looked like he was going to cry again. Luke sat up a little to lean a bit more over him. “Michael. It’s okay.”

            “It’s not. I’ve been on my own fresh out of high school, and even then they were never around. I’ve been taking care of myself for basically ten years, Luke. That’s nearly half my life. And that’s fine—I can do it. I’m doing well enough, aren’t I?”

            “You’re doing incredibly.”

            Michael sniffed and shook his head hard, but some tears fell anyway. He scoffed at himself.

            “It’s…Michael, I understand.”

            “No you don’t.”

            Luke sighed. No. He didn’t. His mom and dad had always been there—still were—and they and his brothers supported every last decision he made. If he had decided that instead of getting a graduate degree in physics he wanted to do something ridiculous like start a punk band and leave home, then they would have been just as fine with that. So no, he didn’t understand Michael’s situation at all. But what he did finally understand was that thing he’d been trying to tell himself all this time—someone always had it worse. He felt ashamed for feeling sorry for himself over a bit of insecurity. “Michael…”

            “Luke, I—” His breath hitched in his chest. He swallowed. “I’m so sick. I’m so sick of driving and working and eating and sleeping alone. I wish…” He closed his eyes and stopped talking.

            “Wish what, Michael?”

            Michael whispered, trying to calm himself down. “That I…wasn’t alone. It’s painful and pathetic.”

            Luke had no idea what to do. Tears were still dripping down Michael’s cheeks, through his long eyelashes. He could see, on the blankness Michael had put on his face, the pain he was talking about. The pain Luke had seen when he first saw Michael in his car. Luke felt awful inside. All he wanted to do was help.

            He leaned down and he kissed both sides of Michael’s face, over and over again, tasting the salt of his tears, trying to kiss the pain away and knowing he never could.

            “What are you doing?” Michael mumbled.

            “I’m kissing you.” He kept doing it.

            “Stop.”

            “Okay.” He leaned back and looked at Michael again.

            Michael eyed him seriously and said, “Luke, you have to tell me honestly right now if something’s going on because if it’s not then you have to go. I can’t handle that too.”

            Luke took a deep breath and as he let it out he said, “Jesus, Michael…I think it is.”

            Michael’s eyes flicked back and forth between Luke’s, and Luke could tell that Michael was trying to gauge how genuine what he had just said was. And the funny thing was, it was completely genuine. He really did think that there was something. Something for Michael.

            Michael eventually said, “Okay. Then you can stay.”

            Luke smiled. “You did say you were sick of sleeping alone.”

            “Shut up.”

            Luke lay back down and pulled himself closer to Michael.

            There was silence until Michael said, so softly, “You can keep going…if you want.”

            Luke sighed and smiled, pushed back up a little, rested his hand on Michael’s chest, and met Michael’s lips. Michael didn’t push him away this time. Instead, he brought his hands up and pulled Luke’s body to his own.

            The rain tapped gently on the window in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Little Green Day reference, eh?
> 
> Any quotes, song titles/lyrics, and things of that type are not my work and I take no credit for them (though I do thank those who made them for their incredible artistry).


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